


Dead Men Tell No Tales

by Sarthker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Good Severus Snape, Harry Potter Has a Pet Snake, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Multi, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29934342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarthker/pseuds/Sarthker
Summary: Turns out dying while being the master of the three Hallows opened a few possibilities for the Boy-Who-Lived.It will also raise a few questions for Harry.Snakes also make for good family!
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Sirius Black & Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Dead Men Tell No Tales

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys!   
> I'm excited to share this work with you all.   
> This is _supposed_ to be my main work right now, some of the ideas i get whilst writing this one will end up on my other works-in-progress.
> 
> Updates to the story should come regularly, so enjoy! :D

He should have died.

He knew the moment he saw the man’s memories. He knew how he had been lied to, how he had been shaped, how he had been groomed to be.

He knew what he would have chosen, given the chance. He knew what he would have cherished, given the opportunity.

He knew what his _destiny_ entailed. Mostly ramblings of old, senile wizards and broken psychopaths. _His_ destiny nonetheless.

Or was it?

He knew Anger, for those who doubted him. Jealousy, for all those who could enjoy a happy life whilst his was hell. Guilt, for everyone who died to keep him alive. Sorrow, for the innocent lives lost. Anguish, for he knew what needed to be done next. Love, for what little friends he had left, as for family he had none, and Hope, hope that his sacrifice would be enough, hope that his was the last death, hope that he was the last to suffer.

He was supposed to die.

The last thing he saw was that emerald light rushing towards him. It’s appearance tantalizing, reminding him of someone’s eyes. He knew that at the end of that light he would be free; he would finally be able to rest. His fight was done.

His mind racing, what was supposed to be mere seconds felt like minutes. He saw the hypocrites, the slanderers, the jealous, the deceiving, the wizened, the delusional, the suffering, the loyal, the loving. He saw everyone in his life that molded _him_. In those few seconds he had left he realized more than in his 17 years of life. He broke through all the deceptions he was under and, for a fleeting moment, he felt happy.

He was dead.

But for a moment.

What surprised him first was that he kept thinking, what surprised him next was the darkness he was in. What surprised him last was that he wasn’t alone.

What didn’t surprise him at all was who he was with.

That face, those eyes, that mischievous smile that always seemed to accompany him,

“Hey there, pup. I gather I’m not who you were hoping to see, right?

He wanted to cry, to laugh, to ask him so many things. He knew better, however. At some level he _was_ expecting this situation.

“Can’t say I’m really surprised, padfoot” A small smirk appearing on his mouth. “From the moment I held the stone I think I knew something like this would happen.” The tone of his voice soft, almost breaking. “You are the one I regret losing the most”

Sirius smile slowly disappeared, sadness creeping in his eyes. “I’m sorry pup. I couldn’t be of more help, I…I couldn’t be there for you when you needed it”

“Don’t…. You were the best thing that happened to me” Tears slipping down from Harry’s cheeks “Even if it was only for a while”

They both stood there looking at each other. Myriad of emotions and words unsaid expressed on their eyes.

After what could have been a minute that felt like an hour Sirius sighed, his countenance turning more solemn than before.

“Although I wish we could stay here longer, I think we both know we have little time now. There’s a decision you have to make and a couple of things you should know before that” His gaze turned focused, the whole…aura around him oozing with hostility.

“You have been lied to, Harry. Lied to your whole life. For that matter I have been lied to since before your parents died, as I’m sure most other people have been too.”

This _revelation_ only confirmed Harry’s suspicions.

“Dumbledore, right?”

With a small nod of his head Sirius continued “He has been the main motivator of this whole war. Sure, he says it wasn’t his place to actually interfere, he didn’t want more power as he usually puts it. Bollocks, all of it.” A look of disgust flashing in Sirius’ eyes. “He was but a coward, too afraid to do what needed to be done. Entrusting impossible tasks to a kid that barely understood what his place in this whole mess was. Only because of a _fucking_ prophecy.”

“Even before that, he could have stopped everything from ever happening when he first met Tom Riddle, he could have stopped things from getting out of hand once he got into Hogwarts. By the time he graduated he could have kept him in check as a professor, but no. He knew better, he prided himself on being too clever for everyone. He was instead the biggest fool of all. Two wars and countless lives lost because of _HIM_!” Harry added, anger warping his face.

“Tom is a deranged shit, for sure, but at least he’s not afraid to show it to everyone. Dumbledore convinced everyone, EVERYONE, that he was some sort of paragon, the greatest wizard that has ever existed. The man who, despite all his machinations and schemes, was always justified because he did everything in the name of the greater good. He died and people still adored him. I still adored him.” Harry almost broke his teeth from clenching them on the last phrase. Controlling his emotions and with a mocking smile on his face he added “But we know better now, don’t we?”

“Yes we do, pup… yes we do.”

“So, you mentioned I have a decision to make. I suppose it isn’t as easy remaining dead or not, right?”

“Yes and no. You can choose to remain dead. I just want to make it clear for you, this” he signaled to the whole darkness surrounding them “is not death. It is more like a _transition_ plane if you will. Normally you wouldn’t even notice this place exists. You, however, have been forced, intentionally or not, upon a particular set of events that gives you a set of choices.”

“You have become the master of three relics, artifacts of immense power that some people would attribute to Death itself. Mostly truth, being honest, as they were made by three mortals with Death’s guidance. As such, powerful as they may be, individually they are flawed and would only lead to their owners to an early death. If they manage to find themselves in the hands of a unique master, however, that person could theoretically become the master of death”

“That explains your current undead-ly situation, pup. There’s more to it, as the Elder Wand cannot kill its owner you shouldn’t have died in the first place. You would have only been stunned at best or maimed at worst. By willingly accepting death, however, you have proven yourself to the Hallows so you could now claim control over death itself.”

“Given that you are currently recognized by the Hallows as their true master also gives you one more opportunity. You could relinquish one of them, it will forever cease to exist in the past, present and future. It _could_ create some discrepancies with events that already have happened. It will, however, give you the chance to break the laws of magic _once_ , and I am not talking about a low-scale business here, you could do virtually whatever you want. But only once.”

Harry remained silent, trying to assimilate all he just heard. One part of him dearly wanted to just move on, leave all the worries and pain behind. Another part of him urged him to do what was “right”, to see this whole charade to its completion. The loudest part of him, however, wanted revenge for everything he had been put through.

And so, an idea popped on in his mind, an idea that might just be _crazy_ enough to work. Sirius grinned heartily when he heard his next words.

“Say padfoot, are you familiar with Time-Turners?”

* * *

**November 1, 1981**

In a normal street of a normal neighborhood on an equally normal night a not so normal figure could be seen walking with a bundle on his arms. The clothing was… peculiar to say the least, a catching cobalt robe adorned with what seemed to be silvery-white stars (which looked to be extremely cozy), a particularly pointy hat in a violet tint, moon faces woven on to the base and finally a couple of midnight black wizard boots. On his face a long untamed white beard, harmonizing with his equally long pale hair. His gaze profound and wise, one could see a twinkle in his eyes every now and then.

As he approached the door of the house numbered 4, a tabby cat that was previously sitting under the “Privet Drive” sign approached the old man, matching his steps before changing into a no-nonsense looking middle-aged woman, black robes and witch hat donning her body. A shade of apprehension on her, otherwise stern, face.

“Good night Albus, what brings you here?” Greeted the woman, still walking at the side of the old man

“I’ve come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They’re the only family he has left now.”

“You don’t mean y…you can’t mean the people who live here?” cried Professor McGonagall in a startle, pointing at number four.

“Dumbledore you can’t! I’ve been watching them all day. You couldn’t find two people who are less like us!”

“It’s the best place for him.” said Dumbledore absentmindedly. “His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he’s older. I’ve written them a letter.”

“A letter?” questioned McGonagall faintly, sitting down on the wall. “Really, Albus, you think you can explain this with a letter? They’ll never understand.”

“Maybe not but it’s the only choice we have” said Dumbledore firmly, his tone not allowing for further discussion.

And so, the one-year-old Harry bloody Potter, the boy-who-lived (again), was left on the door of Privet Drive #4, on a small basket and covered with white blankets. Much to everyone’s obliviousness that was also the moment when the mind of a 17 years-old Harry replaced the baby’s one.

Unnoticed was also the small blue-eyed/black-skinned horned snake that but for a brief second became visible, before slithering around the baby’s arm before turning invisible again.

* * *

**November 2, 1981**

Petunia Dursley opened the door of her house, milk bottles in hand, before uttering a (some would later claim banshee-like) scream and falling unconscious. Vernon Dursley would later take the baby inside, not before trying to help his wife.

Baby Harry was poked and prodded by baby Dudley Dursley.

Soon-to-be-named hatchling _Sithis_ finds refuge in the living room’s flower pot.

* * *

**January 14, 1982**

Baby Harry starts practicing _parseltongue_ with yet-to-be-named _Sithis_ at nights, progress seems promising.

First attempts at Occlumency, Harry can’t empty his mind. Decides to make the practice a daily habit from that point onward.

Baby Dudley continues to harass Baby Harry

* * *

**July 31, 1983**

Harry turns 3, is reallocated to the familiar below-the-stairs cupboard.

Harry is _coerced_ into doing small chores around the house, to show his gratefulness.

* * *

**October 23, 1983**

Harry is granted permission to keep one flower vase (flower included) in his cupboard for “taking care of the garden whilst unprompted”. Sithis moves in, parseltongue practices become more frequent.

Occlumency is now being practiced all the time, except when having a conversation (mostly with Sithis).

Sithis confirms _she_ is in fact a _Horned Serpent_

* * *

**February 27, 1984**

Harry receives his first _real_ beating. Planning to leave the house within the year starts.

* * *

**April 15, 1984**

Harry manages to completely compartmentalize his mind, memories are immediately stored for future use, grants him both eidetic memory and full use of his previous life’s memories.

* * *

**April 20, 1984**

Harry discovers a series of tracking charms on his body, promptly reprograms them to report him in the Dursley’s residence at all times.

Harry starts practicing wandless magic.

* * *

**June 14, 1984**

Harry sets a date to depart the Dursley’s place.

Using a couple of wandless compulsion charms, Harry manages to live the remaining time in the house (mostly) undisturbed, still does some chores though.

* * *

**July 29, 1984**

Harry finishes his preparations consisting of:

  * The most recently acquired backpack for Dudley, enchanted with several extension, security and weather-proof charms.
  * Several sets of clothing, courtesy of the local neighbors (thanks to the help of some notice-me-not charms)
  * A hunting knife, also from the neighbors
  * Several items of food, canned and fresh, to last for a year, conveniently preserved with stasis charms in the backpack.
  * A bracelet with the initials _L &J, _found in the attic.
  * Sithis: housed in a, now much larger, transparent flower vase (although she spends a good part of the day coiled around Harry’s neck, or resting atop his head)
  * Enough paper and pens (for any impromptu owl-message needs)
  * A canteen, also enhanced with extension charms,
  * A 15’’ long wand seemingly made out of Elder wood, surprisingly unremarkable and
  * A cloak made out of a, apparently, sturdy material. Remarkably light for its size and quite warm. It can also make the wearer invisible.



* * *

**July 30, 1984**

Harry does a last-minute check of both his _survival_ gear and his general physical health. Discovers, among other stuff, several now healed fractures, as well as some bruises. Also, some old compulsion charms designed to trust the Dursley’s and whoever identified itself as his guardian.

Harry discovers he is immune to compulsion.

Harry reinforces the compulsion charms on his family, sends Dudley to spend the rest of the week with a friend, not before erasing his cousin’s memories of him.

* * *

**July 31, 1984**

Right in the middle of the night, approximately an hour or so past midnight, a short figure could be seen walking out from his small (if one could call it that) bedroom. Taking one last look at his relatives’ photos adorning the living room, he steeled his hearth. He knew he should feel wrong for considering what he was about to do but he only felt _empty_. The thought of that new sensation filled him with intrigue.

Making sure one last time he had everything he needed, he promptly walked upstairs, stopping at the door of his uncle’s bedroom. Silently he placed a series of locking and soundproof charms all around the room, no matter what happened next no one would be able to open neither the door nor the windows, at least until the room was sufficiently damaged. _And it was going to be damaged indeed_.

Going downstairs and heading to the kitchen he considered, again, if he was sure about his course of action. He could just leave and none would be the wiser about it. He could obliviate his “family”, making them forget all about him. Hell, he could even send them to a whole new place (along with the obliviation, of course), giving them new identities, surely no one would find them in the future.

But no, he knew better. All the other options carried a risk, magical traces, feeble as they may be (and nearly untrackable, in the case of his particular wandless magic), may still lead a zealous Auror or Death Eater his way. Sending his family away also carried the risk of them being _heavily_ interrogated and, although he was confident no method could be reasonably employed to extract the memories _he_ obliviated, he was still being careful. No, he couldn’t start second guessing his _own_ decisions. His previous life was _hell_ all because he wasn’t decisive enough, all because he was oblivious, all because he had compassion.

No, this time things would be different, he would make sure of that.

With renewed determination in his eyes, he opened all the gas knobs on the stove. If life was merciful, his uncles would die intoxicated in their sleep, if not, well, no one would hear them anyway so it didn’t make that much of a difference,

Feeling a small thump on his neck, he looked down at Sithis. A happy smile appearing on his face as two pairs of eyes, one emerald-green and one sapphire-blue, looked at each other.

_φ_ ” _Isss it time to go, brother?” φ_ softly hissed the small snake before letting out an (arguably cute) yawn, seemingly just waking up.

_φ_ “ _Yeah Sithis, it’s time to leave this place, time to go home” φ_ answered Harry, letting go of all worries, he knew he wouldn’t be alone, for he had a family.

_φ_ “ _And where isss home, brother?” φ_

_φ “Anywhere comfortable, I guess. Although I think it shall be a place near a lake, you’ll outgrow your vase soon” φ_ chuckled Harry.

_φ_ “ _Sithis” φ_

_φ “Yes, brother?” φ_

_φ “I love you” φ_

_φ “I love you too, Harry” φ_

And with that, Harry apparated away, no evidence of him ever living at the house on Privet Drive remaining, except for a small, barely legible writing on the floor of his once cupboard-y room “H. lived here”

That same day, in the morning, neighbors were awoken to a sudden explosion. Firemen and police were called, soon the press was on its way too. Afterall that _was_ a normal neighbor filled with normal people, a house exploding was certainly the most abnormal thing that had happened there in _decades_.

Once the press sated their curiosity by interviewing both emergency services and the neighbors, a story was printed on the papers the very next day

**_Mother, Father dead in domestic explosion caused by gas accumulation. 4-year-old son was at a friend’s house at the time of the accident._ **

A posthumous service was held on the nearby church, pretty much the whole neighborhood assisted. Dudley was sent to live with his aunt Marjorie and her pen of bulldogs, no doubt to be even more pampered than ever.


End file.
